Spare Parts
by White Aster
Summary: Transformers drabbles and bits. Unrelated to any particular continuity unless noted. Also will contain possibly abandoned stories that I don't think I'll ever flesh out/continue, but which I think you'll find amusing anyway. Explicit material will be noted in chapter headings.
1. Drabbles 1

TF/James Bond crossover - Mirage

Usually stolen cars were a mixed bag. You were never quite sure what you'd get.

This one, however, was a practically holy and sanctified mix of speed and smooth handling that made it almost feel like it was driving itself.

He only had a few miles to enjoy it, however, before his pursuers caught up with him.

Then things got a bit strange.

"All right, then," the car said. "I was willing to be a good sport and play along, but now they are shooting at me. How annoying."

The seatbelt pulled James back tight against the seat.

"Sit back and relax," the car said, as James watched the speedometer peg and the scenery KEEP ACCELERATING. "And if they chip my paint, I AM sending your government the bill."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
><span>Optimus Prime - glitched<span>

Optimus Prime had long ago come to the conclusion that he was irreparably glitched. Every maintenance checkup, he expected Ratchet to look at him suspiciously or confront him about some abnormality.

Optimus knew it was there. How could it not be? How could it be anything but a glitch, the fact that he still could not hate Megatron, after vorn upon vorn of war, after atrocities that haunted his dreams with their sheer, ruthless brutality and cruelty? How could it be anything but a code conflict that even after all that, even knowing the ocean of energon that stained Megatron's hands, that Optimus still hoped, every time he saw Megatron, that this time would be the one where Megatron would come to his senses? Still hoped that his friend would return. Still saw in him Megatronus, who had roused his mind and spark and was the very BASIS of the passion for a better world that had become Optimus Prime.

But no. Ratchet's machines detected nothing. And Optimus was left with the constant fear that he was going insane.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
><span>Ironhide and Mikaela - Bayverse - ew.<span>

"No offense to your species, but your planet," Ironhide said, "is DISGUSTING. Rain. Mud. Small suicidal mammals running onto your highways. DISGUSTING."

"Uh huh," Mikaela said distractedly, wrench clenched in her teeth as she fished around under his shoulder plating and, by the look on her face, failed to reach whatever she was trying to reach. She stood back up with a sigh. "I can't see or feel anything, but that probably just means it's stuck in there too far. Can you give me any more room, or am I gonna have to take the plating off?"

Ironhide grumbled to himself for a few moments before partially transforming and flaring the plating in question. "Organic. Idiotic glitch-for-processor Decepticon had to crashland on an ORGANIC world."

"Uh huh." Mikaela waited until he braced the arm before switching out the wrench for a maglite and stepping partially INTO the joint she was examining. The way she shouted and scrambled out again nearly made him jump.

"What? What is it?" He scanned the environment for threats but found nothing. "Did you harm yourself?"

Mikaela just leaned against his forearm plating, face gone pale. "No. No, I'm fine. I just...when you said...it's head is... EW. I wasn't expecting it to be LOOKING AT ME when I found it." She swallowed. "Ew."

"As I observed," Ironhide said, sounding vindicated.

"Disgusting. Yeah. Ew."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
><span>Soundwave - Bayverse (early RotF) - observant<span>

There were times that Soundwave had had doubts. Small, well-concealed doubts. But doubts nonetheless. About their purpose, their vision, their goals, and most of all about his Lord's state of mind, on which all of these things rested.

Lord Megatron had changed. He was no longer the mech that Soundwave had joined on Cybertron. All his years captured and tortured by the fleshling humans had...distracted him. Soundwave had blamed his irrational rage, his single-minded obsessions, on the humans. He surely had dared not correlate them with Megatron's proximity to the Fallen.

Surely. Soundwave was much too intelligent to do that.

After the Fallen's destruction, however, Soundwave had a new (or, perhaps, old) set of behaviors to analyze. Patience returned. Irrationality faded. Multithreaded long-term planning resumed.

Below him on the Namibian veldt, Lord Megatron laid in the African sun, a dozen tiny hatchlings feeding from his own energon lines. Lord and hatchlings looked content. When they were sated, some of the little ones moved to perch on their Lord and protector's chest, apparently listening intently as Lord Megatron spoke to them. A story, perhaps, by the length and amount of gesturing involved.

Yes, Soundwave thought.

He drew his attention back to his planning, confident that all was once more proceeding as expected.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
><span>Shockwave - Bayverse, early DotM - waiting<span>

Shockwave waited.

All around him, fitted to his frame like a lover or a second skin, his Driller waited with him. Her sensor reports were a slow background murmur of pressure, soil composition, radioactivity, seismic activity, and the constant scan for energon signatures.

Every now and then, she would become restless, a shiver of intent shuddering through her frame. She desired to move, to seek out the mechs that her master was waiting for. Shockwave would still her by the simple expedient of cutting her motor responses. His will would then fall upon her systems like the firm press of the earth around them, his authority iron-clad.

Not yet. Soon.

Eventually she would submit, releasing the tension and settling under his command.

Cocooned in stone and darkness under the radioactive city, they waited.


	2. Decepticon Haremverse (unfinished)

Megatron and the Decepticons turn on their reproductive coding and take the Autobots as mates as part of a devious plan to breed more Decepticons under the guise of peace. The reproductive coding, however, has other plans...

(Bayverse, post-RotF, very AU, very much a cracky excuse for mating instinct/pairbonding/sticky sex. EXPLICIT.)

###Decepticon!haremverse - Overall plot

_Megatron wakes up after RotF and shakes the Fallen out of his head and and Starscream says, "I have good news. Guess who had the locks on their reproductive systems turned off by the Fallen so said Fallen could get him knocked up?"_

_"...and this is good news how?"_

_"I'm sorry, I will be more EXPLICIT. Guess who got a good look at the Primal genetic access keys the Fallen used and now KNOWS where all the locks on the reproductive systems ARE and how to turn them OFF, thus allowing all of us to breed our own damn sparklings again? I'll give you three guesses and the first two don't count. Why yes, I am so awesome I amaze even myself."_

_Of course the Decepticon officers think that this is awesome idea, and turn their systems on. Their system codechecks indicate that actually, since they all have variants of the same Decepticon codeblocks after being in the same army and fixed by the same coders for so long, that they would do better to have folks considerably different spark them up. Megatron has the brilliant idea that if the AUTOBOTS sparked them up (under the guise of "hey, look, we can haz peace and rekindle our race!", then THEY would get new Decepticons that the Autobots would be at a disadvantage fighting._

_Surely nothing can go wrong with this plan, right?_

_What Megatron did not know was that the reproductive coding affects the carrying mechs as well, enhancing sexual attraction to and forming emotional attachments with their chosen mates to facilitate the sparklings having a stable family unit. Whups?_

###Megatron wakes

Megatron, leader of the Decepticons, warlord of Cybertron, woke after the death of the Fallen with the biggest processor ache in the history of the universe and his second in command's voice ringing in his audials.

The next warship he had commissioned, Megatron promised himself, he was going to have his quarters SOUNDPROOFED, all the way up to Starscream's register.

###Megatron chooses his mates

"No," Prime said, tone heavy with finality. "Absolutely not."

Megatron smiled. As if he'd not expected THAT response. "It only makes sense, Prime. The more sires, the greater number of donors and caretakers to the sparklings. Or do you think you will be able to handle me and mine all on your own?"

"Not Bumblebee. Choose someone else."

Megatron's optics narrowed. Something in the glyphs Prime had chosen was...telling. He looked over at the scout in question, who was watching both of them with uncertainty. Not particularly FEAR. Merely the uncertainty of a soldier unsure of his orders. Or his chain of command.

Megatron turned back to Prime. "Why? Saving him for yourself?"

Oh, THAT got a response. Prime's engine revved, his hands clenched, and his tone became ominous...and something else. "Of course not. Don't be ridiculous. He is too YOUNG, Megatron."

The Decepticon leader laughed at the pathetic excuse as he paced over to the scout in question. "We are none of us THAT young, Prime. He is old enough to fight and kill." As he moved he trailed a careful claw over a doorwing and around a shoulder. Pausing in front of the scout, he smiled, digit dragging up Bumblebee's throat. THAT got a blink and a very, very level look from wide, Autobot-blue eyes. "He has fought ME and lived to tell of it." Megatron let a pulse of approval slide into his words, and the scout's frame relaxed, slowly.

"I will not allow you to drag him into this. It is me you want."

"Yes, yes, and you've been so excellent at guessing what it is I WANT, haven't you? I know it's hard to believe, Prime, but not everything is about YOU." Now that he was touching the scout, Megatron found himself reluctant to stop. The warmth and vibrations of the small frame rippled through his plating, and protocols unused to such proximity found it incredibly...arousing. Especially when Bumblebee relaxed further, his plating loosing just enough to brush against Megatron's fingers, questing and uncertain but certainly game.

Prime, of course, had to distract him. "Let him go, Megatron."

"I'm not RESTRAINING him, you glitching, self-righteous idiot," Megatron growled. Though, he decided, he certainly would like to. In several positions.

He'd chosen the small scout because he needed a second and knew it would rile Prime to his usual protective furor. Evidently, his choice was even better than he thought. Prime's response was as he'd expected, with an extra dose of discomfort and guilt that promised great entertainment. And the scout's response to HIM was much less fearful than he'd expected. The useless little guard had transformed himself nicely.

Megatron sent another, firmer glyph of approval and turned a hand up in offer.

Bumblebee's optics held his, and Megatron was doubly pleased when he didn't look to Prime before reaching up to lay a hand in Megatron's, his response formal. ::I accept.::

That stopped Prime's argument in an undignified squeal of static. Megatron smiled, pleased at the amusement and excitement that flitted across his small mate's optics.

Yes, Megatron thought. This was going to be MUCH more entertaining than he'd expected.

###Ravage picks Arcee and Jolt

Arcee held a tight three-point formation as this little meet-and-greet went on. Her eyes flicked from Decepticon to Decepticon, relaxing somewhat as no one made a move toward her. Megatron, Starscream, and Soundwave had all made it abundantly clear who their choices were, and Arcee and Jolt shared a slightly relieved look between them. Not that she wasn't up to trying to re-spark their race, but still...Decepticons.

Then Jolt's optics widened, and Arcee turned her own back to the middle of the hangar. She froze, all of her, as Soundwave's quadruped symbiote Ravage stalked across the open space towards them. He paused in front of them, pacing back and forth a bit without advancing, his tail powered down but twitching restlessly from side to side.

"...what?" Arcee said, warily. Was the symbiote looking for a fight, now that his master was, apparently, concentrating all his considerable processor power on charming Jazz?

Ravage vented a snort, pacing forward again. ::So rude,:: he replied over the short-range comms. ::Or are you rescinding your leader's offer?::

Arcee reset her optics. She'd never heard or even heard OF Ravage speaking. "No. What, does Soundwave want me and can't be bothered to come over himself?"

::No. He is certain he needs to concentrate on your clever spec ops second-in-command. He predicts that keeping Jazz entertained will take quite enough...energy.:: Ravage's circuit took him around Jolt, who turned as he circled to keep him in view.

"Then what?" Jolt asked, then stiffened as Ravage stalked closer, curling in a tight weave in and out of Jolt's feet. The felinid didn't scrape, just moved right into Jolt's personal EM field, his tail tapping lightly against each of Jolt's shinplates. "Wait...YOU?"

Arcee reset her optics AGAIN as Ravage moved over to her, grace and lethal power hidden in his saunter. He weaved in and out of her bodies, and his EM field made her processor stutter as it brushed against her own: amusement and curiosity and the clinging, breeding want that she hadn't felt in eons. "WHAT?"

::I choose you. Both of you. You are friends, yes?::

"What, Jolt and me? Yes..."

::Good. You will get along well, then.::

Jolt was backing up a bit. "Wait, wait, wait-"

::I repeat, are you rescinding Optimus Prime's offer?:: Ravage sat down on his haunches, regarding Jolt calmly.

"I am ALL for doing my duty, but you're a symbiote and a quadruped and are we even...compatible?"

Ravage twitched his tail in what looked like irritation. ::Perfectly. Let me guess: it is this form you find distasteful?::

"Er." Jolt looked uneasily over at Arcee, who couldn't really help him. Sure, Cybertronians came in all shapes and sizes, and Ravage seemed more eloquent than she'd expect from a quadruped, but a bipedal MATING with a quadruped frame was unheard of and vaguely unsettling.

The sound of transformation broke into the awkwardness, and Arcee looked back to see Ravage changing, his front legs pushing up and his chest reforming. The sequence was not the fastest, as if he was out of practice, but involved many minute rearrangements. Most of the redistribution was to change his center of gravity, to lengthen his limbs, to reconstruct his joints to allow bipedal movement. His spinal struts resettled, and his head came up, his face reforming to narrow his jaw and smooth his features, his optics combining into a flattened line not unlike Jazz's visor. When he was finished, he stood before them, of a size to look Arcee in the optic. His tail, unchanged, slithered across the concrete, curling around two delicate, clawed feet.

::Better?:: he asked, archly.

Jolt's only response was an inarticulate, "...uh" and a flash of desire through his field. Arcee couldn't blame him. She knew from experience that Jolt liked the small, graceful, able-to-claw-your-face-off type.

She smiled. So did she. Maybe this wasn't going to be so bad, after all.

###Ratchet/Ironhide/Starscream plot

Ironhide growled in pleasure as Starscream stiffened and cried out in overload, valve tightening yet again with an exquisite, needy clench that Ironhide was beginning to think would NEVER GET OLD. Ironhide oofed slightly as the seeker slumped forward and was still. He caught the Decepticon by the shoulder and pulled to hold him up, content to just kneel there for the time being. "Is he out?"

"Yes. FINALLY," Ratchet huffed from Starscream's other side, carefully extricating his fingers from Starscream's evidently EXTREMELY sensitive wiring. "Honestly, fragging seekers and their flight-grade power plants..."

"Have to admit," Ironhide said, retracting his spike and carefully laying the seeker down, "that was pretty damn awesome." He grinned as Ratchet moved closer to lean over Starscream's offlined form. "Do I want to know where you learned just how to tweak a seeker's wires?"

"Twenty vorns as chief medic with the 92nd Flight Division, half of it under this slagger," Ratchet replied. "Everything they say about seekers?"

"Yeah?"

"Completely true." Ratchet smirked and shook a hardline out from his wrist, finding one of Starscream's medical ports and plugging in. Ironhide felt the Decepticon slump even further as Ratchet disabled something more definitively than an overload. "All right, then," Ratchet said, voice dark with amusement in a way that made Ironhide want to go another round or three. "Let's see how badly we can frag up your plans, shall we?"

Starscream woke to mild confusion, a strutless and sated warmth throughout his frame, and a very insistent ping on his comms. He groaned at the designation but gathered at least half of his processing power before answering. ::Yes, Lord Megatron?::

::Starscream, refresh my memory as to how this plan was supposed to work,:: Megatron replied, sounding entirely too annoyed for a mech who had dragged off both Prime and that spunky little scout.

Starscream pushed himself to his feet, looking about but not finding his own mates anywhere. Ah, no matter. He'd catch them later. He did so love a good chase. ::My lord?::

::Because I was under the impression that the THRUST of our plan was that we would be the ONLY ones with active reproductive protocols, thus making us the key to our race's survival and giving us a bargaining chip the Autobots could not replace. Am I...MISTAKEN?::

Starscream rocked up on his feet, tension wires and hydraulics stretching, his plating stinging from bites and compression in delicious ways. ::Of course not, Lord Megatron.:: What ARE you going on about, you idiot?

::REALLY. Then I am CONFUSED as to why your medic just sent out a patch that would turn on ANY mech's reproductive codes ON THE OPEN AUTOBOT COMM CHANNEL.:: Megatron's glyphs became more thunderously angry as the sentence went on.

Starscream froze in the middle of unkinking a bit of wiring in his shoulder. And checked one of the pings that had been blinking on the edge of his awareness, noting a medical intervention and code check, several memory retrievals...

Unheard by Megatron, Starscream laughed out loud. Well. That hadn't taken long at all. He would have to reward his wonderfully devious mates. Obviously, he'd chosen well.

He went on, smiling the entire time, about how the medic had hacked him, my lord. This was entirely unexpected, my lord. Such an unforeseen bit of immorality was out of character for the Autobots and couldn't have been anticipated, my lord...

_Unless you know Ratchet,_ he didn't add, smugly, as Megatron continued berating him. Starscream cared even less than usual.

He found his mates, unsurprisingly, in the medbay. Both looked up at him, wary, but Starscream waved a lazy hand at them and said to Ratchet, "If Megatron asks, I'm beating you into submission."

Ironhide snorted. "I'd like to see you try."

Ratchet just smirked and went back to repairing the...whatever it was he had in a thousand pieces on his workbench. Starscream stepped up behind him, arms winding around Ratchet's waist, well below the all-important arms. Ratchet stiffened, but relaxed when Starscream just chuckled and sent, so low-power it wouldn't reach more than ten feet, ::Devious mate,:: his tone and glyphs affectionate, wholly approving, and hinting that there were debts of some kind to be paid. ::You would have made an excellent Decepticon.::

Ratchet hmphed but his glyphs were smug. ::I would have killed you and that idiot leader of yours vorns ago.::

Starscream's reply was a purr. Oh, that would have been a fun power struggle... His engines revved at the very thought. ::As I said: EXCELLENT Decepticon. You would have been a much more interesting third-in-command than Soundwave. Slagger has no ambition.::

::Some of us like the idea of SURVIVING the war.:: "Get off," Ratchet said aloud, nudging Starscream in the chest with his elbow. Starscream trailed one hand along a particularly sensitive join of chest plates as he pulled away.

"So. Have fun poking about in the memories surrounding that bit of information?" Starscream asked tartly.

Ratchet shuddered. "Primus..."

"Serves you right," Starscream said. "Honestly, HACKING. The Iacon Medical Board would be APPALLED."

"I'll take whatever punishment they deem fit." Ratchet said mildly, then paused, mock-startled. "Oh wait, they don't exist anymore. How convenient..."

###Meg/OP/Bee Mates and bonding  
>Megatron purred, keeping Bumblebee's back pressed against his front. The scout moaned, low and shuddering, his valve clenching convulsively around Megatron's fingers at the change in pressure. Megatron hissed, desire curling through his entire system, settling hard at the base of his spike. He WANTED to push Bumblebee forward, to sink himself deep into that hungry valve, but the wide, shocked HEAT in Optimus' eyes at seeing the scout so displayed gave the Decepticon a better idea.<p>

He pushed forward with his hips, his spike grating in almost-painful pleasure along Bumblebee's joints. The pressure forced the scout's pelvis forward, tilted to best display his dripping valve and the fingers buried in it. He could feel the shiver that ran through his scout's frame at the wanton position, but the sound he made, washed with static, was only nominal protest. "Look at him," Megatron rumbled in Bumblebee's audial. "Watch how he looks at you."

Bumblebee's optics flickered back to full power, and Megatron smiled. "He wants you. He wants THIS." He twisted his fingers in his scout's tight valve, the digits slipping with obscene ease further in, slicked with lubricant. Bumblebee cried out in pleasure that made Megatron growl and Optimus' optics flare in lust.

Megatron shifted his hips, his spike settling between Bumblebee's legs, sliding slick along lubricant-smeared plating. He rumbled in pleasure as his spike skirted the edge of Bumblebee's valve, bumping against his own fingers. He worked his little scout until he was shuddering, begging wordlessly, and the great Optimus Prime watched in shocked silence, optics locked on Megatron's slick fingers as they sank in, twisted, pulled out, plunged in again. The Autobot leader's hands were clenched at his sides, his expression conflicted even as his spike stood tall and hard.

Megatron reined in his own desire, wanting to draw this out, to drive Optimus' lust higher. "How long have you wanted him, Optimus, hmm? You probably never so much as touched him before I came here, did you?"

Optimus' reply was fragmented with emotion, his glyph choice conflicted, shadowed with alternates, indicating uncertainty. "It would...have been...inappropriate... He is my subordinate."

"And now you both are my chosen. All the more reason for you to take care of him. He wants you. He shakes down to his struts with want of you. Look at his face, Optimus."

Optimus' reply was nothing but static for a long second.

Megatron pulled out his fingers, until the tips just stroked the valve entrance. Bumblebee cried out at the loss as if he'd been shot in the spark, ventilations laboring to cool his overheated systems, fingers scrabbling at Megatron's wrist, trying to force him back where he was before. "Come, Optimus," Megatron said, his optics half-shuttered. The heat from the scout's plating was delicious, the scent of lubricant and transfluid heavy in the air. "Come and claim him. Tell him, scout. Tell him how much you want him."

Bumblebee's comm was wordless as his voice, the sending thick with indicators of need, desire, shame, respect, hope, love, and loyalty. It was artless, raw and pleading, and not just aimed at Optimus. It hit like a punch to the spark.

Perhaps before the installation of the reproductive code, Megatron would have been unmoved by that tone. There were perfectly Decepticon responses to such a sending: satisfaction at the power it indicated he held; pride in his dominance; and gloating at reducing a proud warrior to a wanton, begging thing in his claws. But those were not the only things Megatron felt. A cry like that, from one he had chosen, from one he had CLAIMED, was a cry to be heeded. A need to be slaked.

Megatron clutched Bumblebee closer, starting a countdown in his processor wherein if the Autobot leader didn't frag this needy little creature, Megatron WOULD. Again. He had no doubt that spiking the scout would feel just as good as being spiked by him had.

Optimus jerked forward but in the end his frame groaned in stress as he held himself back. "Bumblebee...you don't...you don't have to...not like this..." His uncertain tone was at odds with the desires obviously running rampant through his frame. Honestly, Megatron thought, Prime had had an easier time fragging his worst enemy than he was his trusted lieutenant.

"Optimus," Megatron chided, smiling. "How deliciously cruel. I didn't know you had it in you." His claws circled Bumblebee's valve, methodically triggering every external sensor, and the scout convulsed in his arms, his cry more static than anything, high and desperate in something like pain, and how could Optimus STAND it? "You will force me to satisfy him. Is that really what you want? Me spiking him, when what he wants right now is YOU, filling him, taking him, making him scream...?"

Megatron twitched restlessly, the reproductive programming telling him that aside from this being one of the hottest things he'd ever seen, the very situation he described was WRONG. They were three. A triad, a WHOLE, and Optimus was not holding up his end of the triangle if he would deny one of them. EITHER of them. It left the triad weak, the construct incomplete, and Megatron would not allow THAT. He shifted Bumblebee in his arms, his own plating heating from the inferno Bumblebee was dumping into the air. Deep in his processor, the reproductive code gave another heave, ending with an odd settling sensation that Megatron refused to think too closely on. With a gentleness that Megatron ALSO refused to think too closely on, he stroked his free hand along his scout's flank. "He is yours as he is mine, Prime. He wants you and you want him. Is this how you treat one of your mates? He begs you and you deny him?" And mean it, Megatron didn't add. Having a mate beg and denying him with every intention of satisfying him later was a different game entirely, and one that Megatron filed away for another time.

Optimus' optics went wide with shock. "Mates? But he and I...we are just...we are merely here for YOU."

Megatron growled in growing indignation that any mate of his (and these two were his mates, whether they knew it or not) would be "merely" anything. Not to mention that any mate of his would be so AFT-HEADED. "YES. And what is it that you think I want, Prime? A mere tumble in the berth? A sparkling or twenty to carry with no-" He stopped, that damned programming shifting yet again, whispering that the word he wanted was "bond". A week ago he would have laughed at the very idea. It was an exemplification of the foolishness of forming close social ties. Mechs bound by any sort of exclusive bond were all each others' biggest weakness.

And, the programming showed him, each others' strength. Loyalty. Steadfast protection. Strong walls to shelter and nurture his sparklings. Steady presences at his side, allies to support his rule.

Exactly what he had always wanted.

Megatron blinked. Well. That was certainly a different take on it.

Bumblebee tilted his head up to look at him, demonstrating that he was smarter than his slag-for-processor leader when he sent the glyph for mate?, with all the proper mutual-bond-support-stability connotations and a surprised-hopeful-did-I-hear-that-right? query marking.

"...Megatron?" Optimus tore his eyes away from Bumblebee to look at Megatron curiously.

Megatron ignored him, sending the same glyph back to Bumblebee, bracketed with those for self-evident certainty, confidence, and personal command authority, just in case the scout thought to argue with him.

By the shudder that ran through the little Autobot's frame, Megatron guessed that he didn't. Good. That was one down, at least.

One very stubborn one to go.

Megatron's optics narrowed in irritation, his countdown long since having expired. He mock-sighed, his fingers circling the scout's entrance again. Bumblebee trembled, arching at the touch, a needy, static whine escaping him.

Optimus's frame visibly SHOOK, his spike gleaming with lubricants. Megatron had never seen a mech who so wanted another and yet still resisted. It was pathetic, but also incredibly arousing.

Bumblebee summoned the coordination to raise a hand, reaching out to Optimus in offer, in supplication. mate?

With a supremely satisfying growl, Optimus SNAPPED, lunging forward to pull Bumblebee into his lap, and Megatron sighed at the scout's triumphant keen of pleasure as the Autobot leader thrust home.

"FINALLY," Megatron grumbled, settling back to watch the show.

Somewhere in his processor, his reproductive coding agreed. With connections made and confirmed, it silently installed new circuit pathways and faded into the background.


End file.
